


Dark Snares

by CelticLady



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 73rd Hunger Games, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Dark Storytelling, F/M, Hunger Games Victor Peeta Mellark, POV Peeta Mellark, Pining, Short Story, Twisted, Unrequited Love, everlark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticLady/pseuds/CelticLady
Summary: AU: Peeta's POV.Peeta's name is drawn for the 73rd Annual Hunger Games. The only thing that pulls him through the whole ordeal is the thought of Katniss and confessing his love for her if he wins. But, what if things don't go as planned? Will the pair be thrust together by fate or do external powers have a final say?Rated for mature themes and language.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 87





	Dark Snares

When Peeta’s name was plucked from the bowl by Effie’s hand that solemn humid afternoon, the world slowed down painfully.

He stood there for what seemed like ages before his heavy feet carried him in a shock-induced stupor towards the stage. A sickening feeling grew hard in the pit of his stomach. There was only one thing that brought him back to the moment though and, as his eyes searched the crowd of people, he couldn’t help but hope.

_Would she finally notice him? Would the universe work in such a cruel way?_

When he finally found her, she wasn’t even looking up at them, the tributes. She had her head turned, her hair in a braided up-do with small dark wisps blowing in the breeze.

He blinked against light of the sun, following her line of sight. _Gale._

A hard lump formed in his throat and something clenched in his chest.

Of course.

After all, they never had really spoken. Peeta never had any substantial interactions with her. Only dreams from afar.

But Katniss and Gale? Well, they were always together. Even if Gale had a reputation of seducing girls at the slag heap, Peeta felt that there was more between them. That, if they weren’t together at that point, that it was going to happen eventually. _Of course_ she was going to be elated that the tall dark-haired teenage boy from the Seam was safe this year.

And Peeta? Well, he was just an observer, a fucking coward. Whenever she would glance over at him, probably feeling the embarrassing intensity of his gaze, he would avert his blue eyes and continue on with the chatter with his large social group.

He was a wrestler and the son of merchants, so honestly company wasn’t hard to find. But, it really didn’t matter to him.

She did. She was the only company he really wanted.

And, now, he had missed his chance. All those days of watching. If he had only mustered the courage to approach her. She would probably have scowled at him, but at least he would have no regrets going into all of this. If only he could touch the end of her braid, let her know that he was _always_ looking out for her.

If only she knew that he was a goner ever since the first day of school. Two braids, plaid dress, and the Valley Song… it was all it took for his heart. He tried to drown it away by kissing other girls, girls that were interested in him. He never ventured any further than that because they were never her. She had ruined him for anyone else.

The only thought that gave him comfort in that moment was _at least she would be safe._ She knew how to hunt and Gale, well, he would also take care of her. At least until they grew too old for the reaping.

As he was ushered in to the building to have departing words with friends and family, he tried to steal one more meager, pathetic glance before being thrown into what would be the last days of his life.

***

Peeta felt sick and dazed as soon as he made his way backstage towards the elevators. The roar of the audience was still thumping throughout the building, and it took everything in him to try and not throw up. He didn’t see Leevy until they were deposited onto their floor, where Haymitch was waiting, cackling manically, his Seam-gray eyes brighter than usual.

He almost missed their typical dullness in that moment.

“You all did great,” his aging mentor praised, slapping him on the back and rewarding the dark-haired girl with a smile.

Leevy straightened herself up appearing to be quite proud of what she was able to muster. She had deftly pulled on the heartstrings with her tales of living in poverty in the Seam. The audience was engaged and invested in her life, which was all any tribute could hope for. As Haymitch said, it can very well mean the difference between life or death.

Her openness, while maintaining some distance, seemed to come easily to her.

But what had Peeta done?

He confessed his love for an unnamed girl. Leevy had no clue it was her neighbor and, if she had, what would it have mattered at this point anyway? When Haymitch originally coached him, it took a lot of coaxing to get those juicy details out. After all, who would sympathize or connect with a baker’s boy whose family were merchant class? That would not stand well against Leevy’s story, and might cast him as a villain just by being presented as that foil. And, talking about being a sensitive painter in a family where he felt a little out of synch just wouldn’t do. No one wanted to hear about his mother, either. No, after all the information gathering, Haymitch was convinced it was a good idea to explore the heartbreaking young love angle. He knew that would that it would captivate the masses. “You might just be the next Finnick,” Haymitch had said with a snicker, but then something clouded his eyes and it looked a little like pain or regret.

In hindsight, Peeta still wasn’t keen. It just felt completely and utterly wrong. Why would dredging this stuff really work in his favor anyway?

_“You have a girl back home?” Caesar had asked right after their banter regarding showers and smelling like roses. It was like he was clued in on Haymitch’s off-stage direction or perhaps Haymitch was used to this, having some twenty odd years to cobble things together. Or maybe it was just the way it went. The showman certainly had a way to captivate the audience, though, and effortlessly segue between topics. It made the most of the little time they had to humanize themselves in front of the audience attending in person and watching on television screens across Panem._

_Peeta laughed a little nervously, but his charm was still on._

_“No, no. Not really.”_

_“What, a handsome boy like you? I don’t believe it for a minute!”_

_“Well… I guess… there’s someone. But, she doesn’t really know I exist. She has a lot of guys that like her so…”_

_“Well, she has to know that you exist now,” Flickerman flashed a wide, white toothy grin and the audience roared in agreement. “Maybe when you get back home, you can talk to her? She wouldn’t be able to resist a victor, am I right folks?” They cheered and whistled as Peeta’s cheeks burned._

***

Leevy was one of the first ones to perish. It had happened within moments after the countdown at the Cornucopia. The nine that she pulled before being inserted into the arena had made her a target, like Haymitch had predicted, and she didn’t run for the tree line like he advised. Peeta glanced up into the sky as her picture appeared and cursed under his breath. He knew his time was ticking away.

His charisma and way with words allowed him a place with the career pack. There were a few others from other districts that were in the alliance, but he knew that could change at a moment’s notice once they were no longer of use. He wasn’t quite sure why he was asked to be a part of it, but he felt it was because the girl from 2, Olura, was smitten with him. She had watched him hurl weights in the training center and, now, she watched him heft large pieces of wood to construct a boma-like fortification to protect them overnight from wildlife. The stench of shit and rotting carcasses filled the air and served as a reminder of their precarious situation.

“You know, we might not have much time left,” she had said during their watch one evening when the others were sleeping. The fire made her face glow against the inky blackness that contained the sounds of lions and hyenas.

Her hair was dark, too, and it blended into the darkness but her eyes were an unnatural shade of electric blue.

Peeta only laughed nervously and ran his hand through his damp ashy curls.

“I’m flattered but my heart belongs to her.”

“You might not make it back to her though.”

“Well, maybe. But if I do, I know that she’s watching now…”

Olura huffed and moved away from him. A parachute had silently glided down later, providing much needed ointment for his sun scorched skin.

In the end, it came down to him, the boy from 1, Clash, and Olura. The girl from 2 lunged at the other boy carelessly and he slit her throat easily. As her blood pumped onto the dirt, Peeta made a mad dash, tripping over roots jutting out of ground with Clash in pursuit. “Come back here, Lover Boy!”

He was much taller and leaner than Peeta, and quicker too. He caught up easily and knocked him face first into a pile of rocks, sending the knife from Clash’s hands flying a few feet away.

The arena then seemed to get hotter and, with it, came sounds – rattling sounds.

As Peeta and Clash wrestled on the ground, a surge of serpents descended upon them. They fought through the numerous venomous bites.

The world grew black and Peeta awoke later, restrained in a hospital bed with Haymitch looking worried over him.

“You did it, kid,” was all he had said.

***

“So, Clash succumbed to the venom first and you won, Peeta. You won! How does that make you feel?” Caesar asked with excitement. It was something that the young victor did not share, but he smiled anyway. Panem would expect it, after all.

“It feels good. Now I can go home.”

“To a certain young lady. You plan to talk to her?”

“I do.”

***

There was fanfare as Peeta pulled into the train station at 12.

He had seriously considered talking with her, but she was still hanging around Gale and it didn’t seem right. When they dredged him up for his Victory Tour, he played it coy, saying that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings.

He instantly became a heartthrob. Capitol citizens begged, no clamored for his company and Haymitch warned him that it was only a matter of time before he would be approached by Snow to satisfy them. That was the night that Peeta got drunk for the first time and got into a fist-match with his mentor.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” he spat out angrily, breathing heavily, pushing back the waves that spilled over his blue eyes.

Haymitch held his lips tight, a hand on his injured jaw, and scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d make it, kid.”

Those words hurt. Everyone seemed to discount him.

He considered again to declare his love in a moment of weakness. He had seen her in town with her game bag slung over her shoulder and almost approached, but was stopped by the sight of Gale. He had tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and the look in his eyes made Peeta wince.

It... it was just as well. Why would he rope Katniss into this mess anyway? What good would it do any of them if he had revealed his feelings? He would be rejected and she would be inserted into the spotlight.

So, he waited for the day for Snow to come and, eventually, he did.

“You’re quite popular and the citizens are chomping at the bit. As victor, you’ll have to indulge them. That day will come soon.”

“What happens if I say no?” Peeta asked and Snow’s eyes glowed.

“My dear boy, I think you know the answer to that question. Everything and everyone you hold dear will pay for it.”

He did say no, though, hastily when that day came. And it worried him. But, how much damage could really be done? Who cared for him really? His mom? He cared, but he didn’t want to give in and be yet another piece of the games that continued to dictate his life. And, he waited for the day to come for something bad to happen. Haymitch continued to warn him even as things dragged on without event. As they did, Peeta’s worry dissipated a bit.

Then it happened.

The reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. The afternoon sun was high in the sky. Prim’s name was pulled, and then the name of Gale’s brother.

Of course Katniss and Gale volunteered in their places.

As he stood rigidly on stage, Peeta could feel his palms grow instantly sweaty. An unsettling feeling came over him.

Was this Snow, watching him, tormenting him? Had he figured things out?

Was he the reason that Katniss was now ensnared in this? Her and Gale?!

Haymitch later approached him on the train when they were on their way to the Capitol and said under hushed tones, “I warned you.”

Shock instantly filled Peeta’s face. How did...

But the older man plunged forward without pause. “Even a blind man could see your pining, kid.” He then collected his drinks and headed into the car holding their tributes, leaving behind a sick Peeta. It took him a moment to compose himself before joining them.


End file.
